


On The Edge of Heaven

by SuzyQSky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Heaven is a setting, Mentions of Suicide, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 09:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzyQSky/pseuds/SuzyQSky
Summary: "Why am I at the edge of a cliff anyway? Is it like, the edge of Heaven?" I said jokingly."Yes.""I'm seriously at the edge of Heaven?""Yes.""Huh." I laid back in the grass, trusting Castiel to watch the boys for five minutes. "Sounds like a book title doesn't it? I can picture it now: New York Times Bestseller At The Edge Of Heaven has critics falling over themselves to get a taste of this love story wrapped in mystery and adventure. Own a hardcover copy signed by the author herself for $49.99 plus shipping and handling.""If you think so." I could've sworn I saw a smile on his usually hard set face for a fraction of a second.At The Edge Of Heaven. It sounded tragic.~Copyright stuff-I own basically nothingLots of swearing-Not for those with innocent eyes and/or earsTW-Mentions of suicide/deathGo read my trashIt gets better after the prologue, I swear.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also on Wattpad, by the same name. Feel free to go check it out over there, I usually update from there. If it's been a while, check there and it might have updated. There's also an author's note over there, which is why I'm skipping it now.

Heaven.

Everyone has that idea of what happens after death, whether you go someplace, turn to a ghost, or nothing happens at all. Turns out religion was right and now I'm here.

Stuck in a garden, with no one to talk to, nothing to do, and a cliff that led to an endless drop. Heaven. The supposed "better place" good old family pet Spot goes when he dies.

Well, I'll tell you something a little different. 

Angels are dicks, other spirits never visit, and nothing ever happens. It's like waiting in an endless line, which is to say, boring and completely pointless because you never get where you want to go.

In short, Heaven is Hell. Hell is Hell. Everything's Hell. Nothing has any meaning or value, and in the grand scheme of things, I don't matter, you don't matter, nothing matters and the world goes on being Hell and torturing everything that breathes and everything that doesn't.

That's why I'm dead, but I didn't think I'd go somewhere after I hung myself in my closet. I thought it would all end, that oblivion awaited.

But no.

Here I am, alone with the plants, with my thoughts, my regrets from life. Stuck in my memories with nobody to vent to about just how shitty the whole world is.

Until I met a certain blue-eyed angel named Castiel. I remember when he first visited. He asked why I did it. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about. 

"Why would you throw away your life?" He had asked me.

I stayed silent.

"You had so much to live for," He started.

"Don't start with that bullshit. I've already heard it enough for a lifetime and an afterlifetime. I don't need you telling me that I made a mistake in letting myself try following my own path, which I hoped would be to an endless black, but hey, look at me now. I'm stuck in a rather hellish version of paradise, completely alone with no one to talk to but you, and honestly, I'm not too impressed with the room service around here." I snapped. I'd been going nuts for, what? A week? And I was kind of pissed off, at myself, at the world, at whatever the hell sent me to Heaven.

I wish I hadn't said what I did.

"I sense anger."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"My name is not Sherlock. I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord."

I looked him dead in the eyes. "It's a saying, Castiel, angel of the Lord."

"Ah," He nodded, starting to pace.

"Castiel, angel of the Lord, I got a question for you." He looked at me expectantly. "Why am I here? Don't you go wherever you believe you go? I didn't exactly believe in Heaven, more like the void. And aren't suicide victims considered vengeful spirits that haunt places and spook teenagers stupid enough to think horror shows make great date locations?"

"That was three questions."

"Yeah, whatever, just answer them."

He sat down next to me, where I'd been sitting at the edge of a steep drop-off with my legs hanging over the edge.

"(Y/N), there are things that some people can never understand. People will believe anything if the right person tells it to them."

"Like Jesus."

"Exactly. And yes, most who commit suicide do become angry spirits looking for revenge, but you are special."

"Special how? And how do you know my name?"

"I know who you are because you are special. Did you ever stop to wonder why you have a perfect view of the living world? It's because you are special. You can see what no one else can. You know things that no one else knows."

I rolled my eyes at him and looked down the cliff. "Yeah, right. I was just crazy. Seeing things nobody else sees is one hell of a symptom that goes with losing your marbles."

"If that's what you'd like to believe. But everything you saw, everything that made people think you were crazy, that was real."

"Prove it, if you're so smart."

He sighed but looked down the cliff face. "Look, and you can see for yourself."

Skeptical, I looked down where his gaze was held.

The view was spectacular. I saw the Earth like I was looking down at it from the moon. And no matter how bad it looks from the surface, it's much better from the distance. Suddenly everything seemed to rush forward, zooming in onto a pair of boys. Brothers, I assumed by the way they argued. Either that or they were a couple, but I knew how people got about having their sexuality assumed, so family it was.

"Who are they?" I asked.

"Those are the Winchester brothers. Two of them, anyway. Sam and Dean."

"Why can I see them? They're alive, aren't they? I'm dead."

"It is God's will. You are to watch over them."

"Why-" 

But he was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Since that day, Castiel showed up more often. Sometimes he would ask questions, usually about the Winchesters, sometimes just sit with me in silence as I watched over the Winchesters.

The boys were an interesting pair, to say the least. Sam, who I had learned was the tall one with fabulous hair, was very smart, and often found out what they would fight on hunting trips. Dean, the older one, was like a soldier. He could take orders from their father, but also give orders. He was also very popular with women, and it wasn't hard to see why, if you looked at his face. They were entirely different in almost every way, but they were both exceptional hunters.

'Hunter' was a term I'd picked up during my days in Heaven. They weren't normal hunters, with a rifle in the woods to shoot a deer and mount its head on their wall, no. They hunted monsters and ghosts for a living, if you could call it that. They didn't make money doing their thing, as most didn't even know what they were doing, but credit card fraud kept food on the table. Based on their criminal records, including murder, kidnapping, impersonation of federal agents,-the list went on- and what I would call crimes against Heaven, such as siding with demons...

I was positive they were going to Hell.

A familiar  _whoosh_ pulled me from my thoughts. 

"Castiel," I greeted.

"Hello again."

"We have a situation."

"I was afraid you might say that." He sat down at the edge with me, looking down at the world with me. "What have they done?"

"The Winchesters haven't done anything wrong yet, but there's a demon after them. He has pus-yellow eyes and a sick sense of humor. Same guy that messed up Sam at six months. Know of him?"

"Azazel." He narrowed his eyes. "I should have known."

"Why should you have to know everything? You may be an angel, but you aren't all-powerful." I looked over at him. "That's what other people are for. Depending on. No matter how hard you try, sometimes things happen that you can't expect." He looked at me, starting to say something, but I interrupted. "Deal with it."

He closed his mouth and looked back down at the boys, examining the gun they had just found.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to it. "Looks ancient."

"That's the colt. Supposedly, it can kill anything, even demons."

I nodded in understanding. "They were talking about it earlier. Gotta say, I'm not too impressed. For a demon-killing gun, it's pretty small."

"What were you expecting?"

"I dunno, a bazooka? It'd be a lot more impressive, y'know?"

"I do not believe they had bazookas over a hundred years ago."

"It's over a hundred years old? Why didn't I know this?"

"You were still alive when they found out about it. It isn't your fault."

I smiled at him. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"We haven't talked much."

"We haven't." I laid back in the grass. "Y'know, for an angel, you're not too bad."

"I will take that as a compliment." He stood. "I should get going. I need to tell the garrison about this."

"You gonna step in?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Unlikely. For humans, they do their job fairly well."

"Are you sure they can handle this one? Azazel's a pretty strong demon," I pointed out.

"Indeed he is, but they have the colt. They have a way of getting rid of him for good." And with that he disappeared, as always, leaving me alone.

I huffed and looked back down at the Winchesters. I narrowed my eyes and counted again, not believing my own sight. There were three of them. Sam and Dean were there, along with an older man. He was kind of scruffy, with an unshaven face and hard jawline. He wore many layers, most being flannel or plaid of some sort, like the two boys. I could see the resemblance between him and the both of them. It looked like he didn't get along very well with Sam, by the way they were yelling at each other, something about 'you left the family,' 'you told me not to come back,' I wasn't exactly sure. Hearing from Heaven was a lot more difficult than watching. Based on the information I'd gathered I guessed this was their father, John Winchester. 

I'd heard about John from Castiel, how he'd raised his boys into the life they now led. Based on rumors I'd heard, I wouldn't exactly give him the Father Of The Year award, but I understood why he did what he did. Not something I would do if I had kids, but I understood it. 

Time passed quickly in Heaven, much faster than in the land of the living, like how in Hell, time passed at a much slower rate, so I saw what was probably weeks, maybe even months flash by when I was uninterested in what they happened to be doing at the time. And at this time, the Winchester brothers, once again fatherless, continued searching for Azazel. It was probably a slow process for them, but like a movie on fast-forward, I skipped through the hunting to the good bits, such as the car crash.

Long story short, the brothers and their father were on the road to find their enemies, as they usually were, when they got hit by another car driven by a man possessed by a demon, severely injuring Dean. They were rushed to the hospital, and Dean went into intensive care, but somehow, I knew he would die. 

Except he didn't.

He went into a coma, and I knew he would die, and then he woke up.

"What the hell just happened..?" I mumbled to myself.

I  _knew_  he was going to die. I  _felt_  the reaper there, she didn't take him, which would normally mean him turning into an angry ghostie (you'd be surprised what you learn in Heaven), but then he just...  _woke up_.

That's not supposed to happen.

Sure, I'd seen him dodge death once before, from a heart attack he brought upon himself, the idiot, but that reaper had been leashed by a crazy priest lady and forced to do what she wanted. This reaper hadn't been leashed, or bound, or anything. She just let him come back to life.

Could this man just not die or something?

"Could you just rewind like, ten minutes?" I whined at the Earth. "I wasn't paying attention, and this is probably important."

And I swear, the Earth is sentient and it pitied me, because it actually went back ten minutes.

I looked at it, exasperated, and said, "I'm not even going to question that. Time bends to my will. Cool. Wish I would've known that sooner."

I paid more attention this time, looking for anything suspicious, but it seemed normal. Kid is dying, father attempts not to cry, younger brother gets angry at the world, that sort of thing, just with a hunter family instead of a normal family where death actually happens.

John left the room, so I decided to follow him instead of watch the boys. He took a winding path down to the basement of the hospital, where he proceeded to summon a demon. And not just any demon, but Azazel.

Idiot.

And then he made a deal with him...

_Idiot_.

To save the life of the son that should have been dead a long time ago.

**_That righteous idiot._ **

He didn't even try getting his entitled ten years, years he could have used to help his sons  _kill_  Azazel, thus  _breaking the deal_ , saving him from torturous Hell.

I looked back to the brothers, where Dean was just coming to, unknowing of what his father had just done.

Damn demons. 

John came back into the room, a sad look on his face. Kicking Sam out for a while, John left his eldest son with a vague warning about maybe needing to kill his baby brother, and then died without so much as a breath for an explanation.

Ominous warning from dying parent cliche. Ding.

I stood up from the edge and walked farther into the large field that I rarely ever visited, partly because the Winchesters were kind of my responsibility, partly because I was often too lazy to actually get off the edge and take a walk for once.

I stood in the grass under my willow tree, waiting for someone to show up so I could relay the news to someone more important than me.

"Hurry up, Cas," I muttered under my breath.

"You called?" I heard Castiel's voice say not five seconds later, making me jump.

"Jesus, Cas! Don't frickin' do that!"

"My apologies. Why did you call me?"

"Remember John Winchester?"

"Yes, he is the father of Sam and Dean."

"He sold his soul to Azazel and now he's dead. He brought Dean back from the brink of death. They were in a car crash, demon, long story. He was supposed to die, I felt it." 

"Are you sure?"

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't say it. His soul was detached from his body! Sam used a goddamn Ouiji board to talk to him! There was a  _reaper_  following him around, trying to get him to cross over!  _He should be dead!_ "

"I'll have to let the higher-ups know about this. If something like this happens again, call me immediately."

"Yeah, that's another thing. I can just call you into existence? And you didn't tell me this before?"

"I am an angel. I thought it would be obvious that I could hear prayer."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course you did. Any other obvious things I should know?"

"I need to leave."

"Fine, leave me alone again, like you always do, I just  _love_  that," I sarcastically remarked, before noticing he had taken it seriously and left to do whatever angel business he had. 

I rolled my eyes at his insensitivity, and plopped myself back down at the edge, and found both Sam and Dean at a gravestone with 'John Winchester' neatly written into the front of it. Knowing hunters, I figured they probably burned his body, gave him a proper hunter's funeral.

They didn't stay long, instead opting to go through his things in their Impala, eventually finding his phone, and a message from a woman named Ellen.

I decided to sit back for a while, watching their story slowly unfold. They met Ellen, who happened to be at a bar almost exclusively of hunters, and Jo, her daughter. Then, nothing of import happened for a while, just the boys going on jobs, killing things, making enemies. The usual. Oh, and driving. Lots and lots of driving.

I zoned out for a while, while the boys just hunted and drove, as usual. At one point they met some hunter named Gordon. I got a bad feeling from him.

I heard a whoosh at my right and turned to see Castiel now sitting with me, watching the Winchesters intently.

"Well, hi to you too, Castiel," I said after a minute of silence.

"Hello."

"Finally catch a break from whatever you do other than stalk a random pair of hunters?"

"You could say that, yes."

"Why  _do_ you stalk them? They aren't too interesting after watching them drive for hours on end."

"They're important."

"If you could elaborate on your answers once in a while, that'd be great."

"They are to be vessels for the most important battle this world will see for the next millennia."

"Against each other?" I asked, shocked.

"Yes."

"Hang on, I know they're idiots sometimes, and argue over the actual stupidest things possible, but those two care about each other. You can't just pit them against each other in some apocalyptic, world-shattering death match." I was shocked, even knowing Castiel as well as I did, which, to be fair, wasn't very well, but still. This was... brutal.

"It's not my decision."

"I swear if you say it's God's will, I will throw myself off this cliff. You really think that God, the guy who supposedly created the universe, the guy with the unending mercy and love for humans, despite all the shit they put each other through, would set brothers on opposite sides of the court, and make them fight to the death, and leave one completely broken down at the death of his brother? I don't."

"He's done it before."

"That was Lucifer. It's different, he's the devil."

"He was an angel once, and my brother."

"Yeah, cause you angels are just so family-oriented."

He looked down in silence.

"What must it be like to be an angel? As far as I know, you don't have emotions. No happiness, sadness, anger, love. What's it like, to feel nothing?"

"Why are you so bitter?" He asked, confused.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because I got dragged somewhere I didn't want to be and was told, 'hey stalk these two random people you've never seen before for the rest of your afterlife, have fun.' Maybe if you were human, you'd get it."

"I don't think it would help."

"Yeah, I don't either. Human emotions are dumb, don't even bother trying to feel them, it just hurts. Especially love. Don't ever love anyone, Castiel. They'll just rip it up and throw it back in your face."

He nodded in understanding before looking back to Earth.

"It would seem Azazel has more psychic children than just Sam."

"Oh, yeah. I forget he's magical sometimes. Do they just have the dream thing or something else?" I asked.

"It appears this one can manipulate people using only his voice."

"Like charmspeak?"

He looked at me in confusion. "I don't understand that reference."

"From Percy Jackson? Some children of Aphrodite could tell someone to do something, and they'd just do it without question."

"Yes, it seems like that, but I doubt this man to be a son of Aphrodite."

"Well, he's not the first other psychic they've met. There was that one kid with the shitty childhood that used his telekinesis to kill everyone in his family before Sam tried stopping him and he killed himself instead of his step-mother. I forget his name, though. You think he's around Heaven somewhere? No, he'd probably be in Hell somewhere, wouldn't he?"

"I assure you, Max Miller is in Hell."

"I don't suppose you've ever been to Hell."

"I haven't."

"You think it's as boring as sitting at the edge of a cliff watching two people drive in silence for sixteen hours straight?"

"..."

"Why am I at the edge of a cliff anyway? Is it like, the edge of Heaven?" I said jokingly.

"Yes."

"I'm seriously at the edge of Heaven?"

"Yes."

"Huh." I laid back in the grass, trusting Castiel to watch the boys for five minutes. "Sounds like a book title doesn't it? I can picture it now: New York Times Bestseller  _On The Edge Of Heaven_  has critics falling over themselves to get a taste of this love story wrapped in mystery and adventure. Own a hardcover copy signed by the author herself for $49.99 plus shipping and handling."

"If you think so." I could've sworn I saw a smile on his usually hard-set face for a fraction of a second.

_On The Edge Of Heaven_. It sounded tragic. 


	3. Chapter 3

I was lying on my stomach in the grass by my cliff, keeping a watchful eye on the Winchester boys. As usual. They were investigating mysterious deaths of bar patrons, which appeared to be wild animal attacks, but they were hunters. Nothing was ever as it seemed.

The boys went through their usual routine. Ask people questions, do research, hunt. But it was different this time.

This time it was hellhounds. I could tell. Hellhounds were bad news. Hellhounds meant crossroads demons, and crossroads demons meant deals. And the boys were headed straight for it.

Because of course they would. They were Winchesters.

"Castiel," I called into the void. "The boys are doing something really stupid. Again."

I heard the familiar flapping of angel wings, and he was suddenly on my right. "What are they up to now?"

Always all business with Castiel.

I gave an exasperated sigh. "They're after a crossroads demon."

"Why?"

"Apparently, ten years ago, a bunch of people made deals, and now it's collecting. The locals think the hellhounds are some wild animal attacking everyone. You know how they are."

He sat down next to me.

"Stepping in?"

"No."

"As usual. You can be so predictable at times, Cas."

"..."

I sat up and looked over at him. "What's up with you?"

"(Y/N)."

"...yeah? That's my name. Don't wear it out."

"You sometimes call me Cas."

"That's a valid observation."

"Why?" He looked straight into my eyes, his head tilted ever so slightly.

"It's a nickname. Haven't you ever shortened any of your sibling's names?"

"I have not."

"Not even..." I thought for a minute, trying to pull an angel name from what little I remembered of the Bible class I was forced to attend until my teenage years. "Gabriel to Gabe?"

"No, he's not around anymore."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't know."

Everything was silent for a moment, other than the muffled sounds of Dean and Sam doing whatever they were doing at the moment. I wasn't paying attention to them.

"Why is it sometimes Castiel and sometimes Cas?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, I guess it depends on the situation. For example, right now it's Cas. It's more of a casual thing between friends. But if I didn't know you as well, or it was a more formal thing, I'd probably use Castiel. Then there are times when one just sounds better than the other, it just feels right. It's weird to explain. It just... it rolls off the tongue better, y'know?"

He looked at me, confused. "I don't comprehend."

"It makes more sense having been raised a human. I don't suppose angel childhood is like human childhood."

"What is human childhood like?"

"Well," I started, but sighed. "Everyone's is different. For some people, they get an apple pie life. Both parents, maybe some siblings, not as many as you, though, a family pet. You name it, they've probably gotten it. They're the ones who go places, get popular, have lots of friends, and either they peak in senior year of high school and end up a gas station attendant, or they go to college and become billionaires. Other people get different childhoods. Some don't have both parents, they might have family issues, everything seems to go wrong, that sort of thing. There are also kids who grow up without any parents, hopping from foster homes until they can move out and be alone." I shrugged. "There's lots of possibilities."

"What was yours like?"

"You don't want my story. It's not too interesting." I chuckled.

"I'm interested in hearing it."

I sighed. "Fine, but only because you're the only person I ever talk to up here. I had both parents, five siblings. I was the baby of the family, and nobody ever let me forget it. Not even into my twenties. I grew up normally, but I was always kind of weird. I had no reason to be, but I had an interest in ghosts in my youth. Well, actually, supposedly my mom was psychic, or had a 'special connection' with the spirit world, and when I was maybe five I believed it. She would read people for a side job when she was in college, and all her predictions were always right. I never had any of her gifts, I was just schizophrenic, according to the doctors. I talked to people who weren't really there. Not for anyone else, at least. I ended up stuck in the hospital a lot when I was young. Eventually, it all got to be too much, and, well. Here we are." I rolled over so I was lying on my back. "Like I said, not too interesting. Not something you'd write a book about."

"These people you spoke to, the ones that weren't there, were they entire visions of people, or just voices?"

"You're starting to sound like my therapist." I chuckled. "Usually voices, but sometimes both. Sometimes it would be like whispers, sometimes screaming, sometimes I'd see them. They always seemed off, though. I could never put my finger on it, but they stood out from the crowd. Everyone else just always seemed to ignore them."

"What would they say?"

"Anything? Everything, really. Somebody could be talking about the character development in the latest Star Wars movie, then not five minutes later someone could be screaming about how the Earth is really flat. It was totally random." I shrugged. "They're all gone now. It's... almost like it's..." The right word was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Lonely?" Castiel interjected.

"Yeah." I looked down at the grass between my knees. "It's like a deafening silence. I didn't like them being there, but now that they're gone..." I stood up from the edge, bounding inland in frustration. "And now I'm here! This place is supposed to be paradise, isn't it? It just, it doesn't make sense. Why is this my paradise?" I whirled around, looking back at Castiel, who had been watching me from the edge.

"Most people relive their best or favorite memories after coming here."

"But, " I started, pausing. "But I've never been here. I've never been anywhere like here. I spent basically my whole life inside, with the walls padded to protect me from myself." I huffed. "Then I get to go home for the first time in, God knows how long, and I end up dead."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say."

I flopped down on my back in the grass, blowing a stray hair out of my face. "Me neither."

He looked down at the grass, the too green, too perfectly soft grass, with a confused look on his face. "How-"

"Two words. Human. Emotions." I looked at him with a serious expression. "I don't get how they work any more than you do, Cas. I really don't." I rolled over onto my stomach and started picking at the stupidly perfect grass. "I wish I just didn't feel them. Life would be so much less complicated if people just didn't... feel." I pressed my face into the grass.

I heard Castiel stand up, then walk over to where I had planted myself. "I should probably go."

I let out a sigh. "What? You're just going to leave me here with my thoughts after I just poured out my frustration at your feet?" I heard the flapping of his invisible angel wings signify his departure. "Jackass."

I rolled back onto my back, and looked over at the imprint I'd made on the ground. "Take that, you perfect piece of shit. My will is stronger than your blade."

I don't know how long I just laid there, insulting everything around me, before something clicked in me. "I should check on the boys." Determined yet annoyed, I trudged back to the edge, sitting in the already comfortable crease my butt had permanently pressed into the dirt. 

"Alright-y what are the Winchesters up to today?" I mumbled to myself. The moment I looked down to Earth, I saw the word Croatoan etched into a telephone pole. I knew that I knew it from somewhere, just not where. And then it hit me like a brick.

"Duh! That's the thing was carved into that one tree at that one settlement that disappeared." I slapped my palm into my forehead. "Why didn't I remember that? I was obsessed with that mystery for like, six months. What the hell is wrong with me?" I sighed. "Everything, (Y/N). That is what's wrong with you."

I laid back, knowing by this point that Castiel, nor any other angel would do anything whether I told them about it or not, and just let time pass.

Well, I checked on them every so often, to make sure neither of them died, which they didn't, for a while. Long story short, the Winchesters would be the Winchesters. They'd get into fights, storm off, drive ridiculously long hours in their Impala, and hunt. That was all they did, for, I don't know, months? Time's weird in Heaven.

Cas didn't show up ever, and I didn't call him. It was lonely, to say the least. Torture, to say the most.

I laid on the edge, for most of it, just vaguely listening for any Earth-shatteringly terrible news, and there wasn't any. Just yells of pain, classic rock music and the engine of the Impala, until they stopped at a town where people were supposedly "following the orders of angels," and "smiting the evil."

I thought for a minute, debating whether or not to call Castiel. He could've been busy, but I was lonely and bored and I'll admit it- I kinda missed the dope.

"Hey, Castiel. Shit's happening." I waited for a moment, not hearing any wings, before trying again. "It's like, angel stuff, if you're interested."

Silence.

"People are dying."

Deafening silence.

"Dammit, Cas! Get your feathery ass over here!"

Flapping.

"What is so important that you had to pull me out of a meeting?"

"You have meetings? What are they about?"

"Never mind that, what is happening on Earth?"

I sighed at my own failed attempt at conversation. "People are saying they're being told to kill 'sinners' by some angel. I thought you didn't like to intervene."

"We don't." He sat down next to me, a hard look on his face.

"Then what's going on? Some self-absorbed asshat meddling in things he doesn't understand?"

"Likely."

He just sat there for a while, watching the Winchesters. I took the opportunity to study his features, or rather, the features of his vessel. Pretty good looking guy, I'd say.

"Do you mind not staring at me? It makes me uncomfortable."

"Yeah, sure," I said quickly, turning my eyes back to Earth, but not my attention.

A few minutes passed before he spoke again. "Why did you really call to me?"

"I... thought it might interest you. You know, angel... stuff." I got quiet at the end.

"Don't lie."

"I'm not!" I exclaimed, offended that he would accuse me of exactly what I was doing.

"You knew no one would intervene unless something extreme happened, and I get the feeling you knew it wasn't an angel."

"Fine! I'm bored and lonely, and there's no one else around here for me to talk to, unless you want me losing my mind all over again, yelling at the stupid grass."

"There are other angels that you can call to if you like."

"I know, it's just... I don't know."

He turned his attention to me, tilting his head like he always did when he didn't understand what I was getting at.

"You're easy to talk to, I guess?" I stated, but came out as more of a question.

"I don't see why it would be any different to talk to an angel other than me."

"It just... is. I don't know how to explain it, especially to your dense ass, but it is." I saw his confused expression and added, "It's just a thing people say, I'm not literally explaining it to your ass, or calling it dense."

"Human sayings make so little sense."

"I know. Humans don't make much sense, either. Does anything really make sense, or are people just too scared to be judged that they pretend everything makes sense?"

"Do these sorts of thoughts cross your mind often?"

"Lately? Yes. Ever since my mind went quiet, all sorts of weird shit shows up. It's almost disturbing what a human mind can question." I laid down in the grass, looking up at the sky. "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"What sorts of weird shit do you think about on your days off?"

"I don't get days off."

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "Well, what are you thinking about right now?"

"I was wondering why you do that so much."

I furrowed my brows. "Do what?"

"Throw yourself into the grass and breathe out in frustration."

"I dunno. I guess I never really noticed it before." I shrugged. "The sky looks nice. You should try it."

There was rustling, then his presence lying next to me. He stayed like that for a minute before speaking. "I don't see the point of this."

"It's relaxing."

"Why would one want to be relaxed when anything could happen?"

"Sometimes, people just need to take a break, Cas. Don't you ever get tired or anything?" I looked over at him, still staring at the endless blue with confusion.

"No. Angels don't need to sleep or eat. We were created to be perfect soldiers, nothing more."

"Well," I sighed for probably the millionth time. "Why? There wasn't anything to fight before everything existed, so why would there be a need for soldiers? It's not like there were demons or humans, or... anything, really."

I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. "I don't know."

"Yeah. Me neither." He didn't say anything in response, so I kept talking. "You think I'm getting too philosophical about this?"

He didn't say anything, just looked at the sky with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Cas?"

Silence. 

"Castiel?"

He seemed to break out of his trance, and looked back at me. "Sorry. I was just... thinking."

"Gotcha."

There was silence, a comfortable silence, settling before I once again broke it.

"There's no such thing as perfect."

"What do you mean?" He asked, turning once again back to me.

"You can't make something, give it a mind of its' own, then call it perfect. If something can make decisions, then eventually it'll make a wrong decision. It can't be perfect."

"..."

"I'm not wrong."

"You aren't."

"Then why the silence?"

"I was just thinking."

"Feel free to share those thoughts. That's what friends are for, lay it on me."

"I'm not sure how to voice these thoughts."

"Some mornings, after a long night, I don't know how to walk in straight lines. Try your best."

He was hesitant, but voiced his thoughts. "Surely an omnipotent being such as my father should have realized this. Imperfection can't be avoided, so why would he create us to be perfect?"

I shrugged. "I guess you'll have to ask the big man himself."

"Do you think perhaps this was in his plans?"

"I dunno. Not everything goes to plan, so maybe not, but hey, I'm not God. I don't know how he thinks, I've never met him."

Castiel sat up, but looked down. "I haven't either."

"Seriously?" I sat up and looked over at him. "You've never met your father? I know that happens a lot on Earth, but I thought God might be a bit more responsible."

"One would think."

"Does anyone talk to him? Like, favorites?"

"Joshua."

I waited for him to continue with a list of angels, but he didn't. "Seriously? That's it? Who even is he? I don't remember reading about an angel named Joshua in church."

"He keeps the garden."

"Garden?"

"The Garden of Eden. The center of Heaven."

"Oh." I leaned back, setting my weight on my palms behind me. "Sounds important."

"Indeed." He stood up. "I've been here too long, I have duties to attend to."

"Seriously? What do you even do when you're not stalking the Winchesters?"

"Plenty."

"Wait." I stopped him before he left. "Are you gonna visit me more often? I get bored without you around."

"If you call me, I will come to you."

"Even for something completely trivial and unimportant?" I tested. 

"As long as it has something to do with the Winchesters, I have a reason to show myself."

"That is a loophole just waiting to be abused," I pointed out.

"Don't say that to my superiors."

And then he was gone.

I smiled to myself. That angel was growing on me, whether I liked it or not, but the strangest thing was that I didn't mind in the slightest. I almost missed him already.


	4. Chapter 4

It seemed to me like today never ended in Heaven. It was like an everlasting Tuesday, and never got to Wednesday, but I knew time was passing because the boys were always doing something new on Earth. The only way I really had of telling time other than watching the sun set and rise on Earth was the visits from Castiel.

According to him, checking on the Winchesters, and, by extension, talking to me, had become part of his "routine," as he called it. What else was on his routine, I had no idea, but he visited regularly now, rather than just when something important had happened. It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to be warming up to me.

"Hello, (Y/N)." I was pulled from my thoughts by a comfortingly familiar voice.

"Hey, Cas."

He came over to my stalking cliff, sitting down at the edge with me, an awkwardly long distance away.

"Cas, we've been over this." I scooted out of my comfortable butt crease closer to him. "You don't have to sit so far away. I'm not contagious, promise."

"Right." He fidgeted in place.

I smirked, scooting closer. "Am I making you..." I got close enough to his face to smell him. "Uncomfortable?"

"Slightly, yes." He cleared his throat. "What have the Winchesters been up to lately?" He said, changing the subject.

I leaned away, smirking, but still close enough that my arm brushed the sleeve of his overcoat. "They're being harassed by some trickster, and they have no idea. It's surprisingly funny."

"A trickster?"

"Yeah, I know. Weird. Tricksters usually aren't this powerful, or show off-y about it. That's why they usually go under the radar, right?"

He looked over the edge, focus showing on his face. "That's odd."

"What is?" I looked over the edge, where he was looking but was hit with a headache. I pressed a palm to my temple, trying to make the sudden pain go away. "That didn't happen earlier."

Castiel looked over at me with concern written on his face. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a headache. What did you see down there?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing as in, nothing interesting?" I questioned.

"No, I mean nothing. It's like something is blocking our view."

"Damn, I liked watching them be tormented." I leaned back on my hands and pouted.

"Something, or someone must not want us watching." 

I shrugged. "Oh well. No stalking the Winchesters, so let's talk." I pulled my legs up and faced him. "What's on your mind?"

He glanced at me, then back down. "I'm concerned."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. They're pretty good hunters, they'll be fine."

"Of course." He let out a breath, but his shoulders were still rigidly in place.

I leaned into his shoulder. "You okay? You seem more tense than usual."

"I'm fine."

"You are not fine." I stood up and walked farther from the cliff. "Come on, we're going to let the boys be boys and not worry about them for five minutes."

"But-"

"They don't need to be watched all the time. Those two are grown men, legal to drink alcohol and everything. They're  _fine_."

He finally stood from the edge. Hesitantly, but I would take what I could get. I took his hand and led him towards a willow tree, where I sat down, him next to me.

"Alright, talk to me." I turned my full attention to him.

"Why wouldn't we have been able to see Earth?"

I shrugged. "Probably magic. It's always magic, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

I sat there for a moment, studying him, as I often found myself doing when a thought was suddenly prodding at the edge of my mind. "Angels are supposed to have wings, right?"

"Correct."

"Are they invisible or something, or is it because I was human that I can't see them?"

"Or something." He didn't go into detail.

"Something such as..?" I pried.

"It's complicated."

"I love complicated, it leads to great conversations. Explain things to me." I leaned towards him.

"Under normal circumstances, when an angel inhabits the body of a human, as I am now, the wings are not visible. This is mostly to blend in with humans, not attract suspicion," He explained. "When not using vessels, an angels' wings are visible to other angels, but most humans cannot observe angels' true visage."

"So people just don't get to see angel wings?" I asked.

"For the most part, yes."

"Then..." I trailed off, confused.

"What?"

"If humans can't see angel wings, then how the hell did it get written into the bible and every other religious text that angels have wings? It's in everything. You think angel, you think some dude with wings, halo, the whole shebang. If people can't see all that, where did it come from?"

"Prophets, mostly." He explained.

"Yeah, that makes sense." I sighed. "How are you always able to explain everything?"

"I have existed far longer than you have."

"No shit." I slid down the tree onto my back in the grass. "Random question: Do you have a birthday?"

"No, I was created, not born."

"So I guess you don't have a mom, then?"

"I do not."

"Last name?" I tried.

"No."

"It seems like it would be difficult to blend in with humans with basically no background information," I pointed out. "Like, trying to go undercover as a human without even a last name? That's definitely not suspicious at all." I saw the confused look on his face and clarified. "Sarcasm."

"Right." He was silent for a while, before speaking. "When is yours?"

"My what?"

"Your birthday."

"(DoB)."

"I'll remember that."

I smiled. "You don't have to. I won't be offended if you don't get me a present."

"Is that a normal human custom?" He asked, that familiar thoughtful expression on his face.

"For some, it is." I shifted in the grass to look into his ocean blue eyes. "Little kids usually make a pretty big deal out of it. Party, cake, presents. It's like Christmas just for them. As people get older, though, it tends to become less important."

"Why is that?" 

I thought for a moment before answering. "When kids are young, they want to be older. Then when they become adults, they'd much rather be back in grade school, when all they had to worry about was getting the sand out of their shoes from the playground." I gave a sigh, reminiscing about when life was simple.

"That sounds nice."

"Sure as hell is. Getting older sucks. I wish I could go back to being six, when I was still excited to do anything." The memories of my past life flashed before my eyes, getting less and less happy with every year. "Back when having a bunch of imaginary friends was normal."

He didn't say anything, and neither did I.

I glanced at the faraway look in his eyes that I had grown accustomed to, those serious blue eyes that I found myself staring at whenever there was silence. He suddenly looked back down at me, locking that hard gaze with my own, and I felt a fluttering I hadn't felt in... a long time, as my cheeks flushed with color.

"Are you alright?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?" I stuttered, much to my own surprise. I may have been a nervous wreck in life, but I had never really stuttered much. Usually, when I talked, people would write off whatever I said as crazy.

"Your pupils are extremely dilated." He stated, intrigued. "There are multiple reasons for this to happen to humans, such as being in darkness, looking at something they love, and various drugs can elicit this reaction."

He couldn't be going where I thought he was, could he?

"This location is too light to cause this reaction, and there is no reason for me to believe you are under the influence of any illegal substances, as you are dead."

There was no way...

"Therefore, my conclusion is the second option."

No...

"You were looking at me. What does this mean?" He finally finished.

I wasn't sure what to say for a moment. Did I love Castiel? I started internally panicking. How was I supposed to respond to something like that? 

_Did I?_

I felt a smile form on my face as I let my instincts take over. 

"Course I love you, you dork. You're my best friend."

Hmm.

I wasn't sure that was exactly what I meant to say, but it was out now, and I had no way of taking it back and rethinking. Or even thinking in the first place.

_Please. Please don't have made things awkward._

He looked down into his lap, the same thoughtful look on his face as usual, but something was different. Yes, his expression was the same, but some there was some unexplainable difference. For someone who I'd learned to predict the actions of, he was surprisingly difficult to read at times.

"You would describe me as your best friend?" He finally said, breaking the silence between us.

I shrugged, trying to downplay the frantic thoughts racing through my head. "Well, yeah. Wouldn't you?"

"I've never had a 'friend' before." He confessed, returning his gaze to mine.

"Congratulations, you have acquired the elusive 'friend.'" I joked, pulling myself back into a sitting position next to him and pressing our shoulders together. "And there is no way you're getting rid of me any time soon."

"Why would I want to get rid of you?" He questioned. 

"I'll become annoying eventually, just you wait," I promised, laying my head on his shoulder.

"I can't see you becoming annoying for any reason. I am your best friend."

I smiled at that. I might have been aiming a bit higher, but a best friend was a step in the right direction.

We sat there for a while, a comfortable silence surrounding us. I picked a patch of wild white and pink flowers and, when asked what I was doing, told Castiel I was making a flower crown. He watched, intrigued, as I wove the thin stems together into a crown.

"Where did you learn to do that?" He asked as I pulled the stem of a lilac colored flower into the intricate weave.

"When I was in the hospital, I didn't do much other than scream and cry at the voices, so they-the doctors- suggested I get a relaxing hobby. They had a whole selection of classes you could take, like yoga, painting, and the like. I didn't really care, so I told them to put me in the one with the least people. I ended up in a basket weaving class. It was surprisingly fun, so I took my skills to the garden." I tucked the last stem into place and the crown was complete. I turned it, admiring my own handiwork before carefully placing it on his head. "It's not as hard as it looks. I could teach you, if you want."

He tentatively touched the petals of his crown as he answered. "I would like that."

"First thing's first." I nodded toward the field of colorful flowers. "Pick your flowers. Long stems are better than short ones, but other than that, choose any you like."

He stood up, making his way through the flowers and picking various shades of blue and deep purple. I smiled as I watched him. It was a calming image.

A nuzzling at my leg pulled my attention away from the grown man with a flower crown and to the ground in front of me.

A cream colored guinea pig sat there, looking up at me with familiar eyes. I immediately recognized her as Teddy, my pet from life. She stared at me expectantly, and I picked her up, holding her close to my chest. My cuddly old friend nuzzled into the base of my neck, like she always had in life.

"I missed you too, Teddy," I mumbled into her fur.

"Has there always been a small animal in this piece of Heaven?" Cas asked as he sat back down next to me, his chosen flowers in hand.

"No, she just appeared." I glanced at the flowers he had chosen. They were various shades of blue, indigo, and violet. "Teddy was my therapy guinea pig. Not my idea, the doctors thought it would be good for me if I made an emotional attachment to something. By the next week, I had Teddy."

He twirled a violet between his fingers. "It isn't uncommon for pets to join their owners in death. Teddy must have met her end recently."

I looked into the eyes of my small companion. "She lived a long life, for a guinea pig. Eight years is pretty old for such a tiny thing." I set her in the grass in front of me, turning to Cas. "Anyway, step one."

I started with an example, showing him the most basic way of weaving the stems together. I stopped mine before it got very long, fixing the ends together in a size appropriate for Teddy. She sat still as I placed it on her small head.

Cas started on his, only slightly struggling. I may have had to guide his hands a few times. He eventually got a feel for it and focused intensely on getting the stems in the right place. He glanced at me a few times while determining the size, but I didn't really notice, as my attention was on the small rodent in the flower crown.

"Done." I looked up from Teddy, who was nibbling on the grass, and turned my head to see Castiel holding a completed flower crown. For his first time, it turned out well. He examined it for a moment, searching for any noticeable flaws. Satisfied with his work, he delicately placed it on my head.

I felt a light blush dust my cheeks as I smiled. "Thanks, Cas."

"It suits you well." He studied me for a moment, the slightest of smiles showing, before standing. "I should probably be going. I have other matters to attend to."

I let out a dejected sigh. "Okay, see you later?"

"Of course." And then a whoosh, and I was alone with Teddy.

I touched the crown resting on my head and smiled, looking down at the guinea pig.

"He's really sweet, isn't he?" Teddy didn't respond, not that I expected her to, but twitched her nose in what I took as agreement. "Yeah, he is."


	5. Chapter 5

I looked up into my mother's bright (e/c) eyes, a bright smile on my face.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart!" She exclaimed as I ran up to her and hugged her around the waist. She placed a hand on my small head and ruffled my hair. 

It was my tenth birthday. The last good day of my life.

I screamed in surprise as Logan, one of my older brothers, picked me up from behind and placed me on his shoulders. "How's my baby sister?" He asked as he leaned his head back and gave me a bright smile. He, like all the other boys, looked just like our father. Dark, but not quite black hair, emerald green eyes, and a straight nose. At seventeen years old, he was the model oldest brother.

I giggled when he started making funny faces. "Put me down, you big goof." Logan pouted, but let me down from his broad shoulders.

Lucas, the next oldest at sixteen, abruptly ran into the room and jumped on his back. "My turn!"

Logan frowned at the younger boy, before dropping him onto the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Lucas groaned in pain as Aiden stepped over him to get the fridge, stopping to ruffle my hair and give a quiet 'happy birthday' before pulling out the carton of orange juice. Aiden was the quietest of my brothers, and undoubtedly the smartest of the pack at fifteen.

The youngest of my brothers, at twelve, pulled the second youngest, at thirteen, into the kitchen to join the rest of the group. Noah, pulled by Ethan, was firmly holding his pride and joy, a Nintendo DS, which held his full attention, but gave a grunt of acknowledgment as he passed. Ethan gave me an excited wave and smile.

I hung on my mom as the whirlwind of boys made its way out of the kitchen after doing whatever it came to do. It was too hectic to really tell what anyone, in particular, was doing. She flipped the last of the pancakes onto a large platter and picked it up with one hand, picking me up and holding me on her hip with the other. She placed it, along with bacon, eggs, sausage, and muffins onto the table in the dining room before setting me down in my designated spot as birthday girl.

"Boys! Breakfast is ready!" She yelled in the general direction of the rest of the pack. She turned and smiled at me as she started toward the stairs. "I'll wake up your father."

My brothers all made their way to the table, arguing about seating arrangements before, finally, Logan and Lucas were on my left and right, respectively, Noah and Ethan were to the left of Logan, and Aiden sat in the middle of the three remaining chairs. 

My mom made her way back down the stairs, my father in tow, still wearing slippers and pajama pants. As he picked up the Sunday newspaper from the counter, where it sat, my mom took the spot directly across from me, leaving the spot to Aiden's left for him. As soon as he sat down and passed the comic section to Lucas and the sports section to Ethan, everyone dug in, enjoying the fresh home cooking my mother worked so hard on every morning.

With everyone's mouths full, it was quieter, save from the obnoxiously loud chewing from a few of my brothers, and the occasional conversation.

Eventually, everyone was done. And by that, I meant there was no more food on the table, and unless they wanted to start eating the tableware, my brothers' voracious appetites would have to settle. My mom stood up, grabbing empty plates and dealing out chores to my older brothers. She handed all the dishes to Aiden, who had been given after-meal washing up duty. He took them without complaint, making his way into the kitchen to start. The others all meandered for at least five minutes before getting started. My father, who had changed to his work attire at some point, left, kissing my mom on the cheek as he grabbed his overcoat and stepped out to his car for work.

"Mom, you aren't busy today, are you?" I asked her, hoping she wouldn't lock herself in her office for hours on my birthday, of all days.

"No, honey. I'm taking the day off." I got up from the table and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her into the living room and plopping onto the couch. 

"Can you read me a story? One of the ones you wrote?" I pleaded. She was an author of a few books, most fantastical or romantic. There was one that I liked in particular, about an angel falling for a human. I wasn't sure why I liked it so much, loved it even. It was one of, if not her very first work, so many thought it wasn't her best, but it was my favorite. I only wished I could remember the name of it.

Of course, my mother knew which one I wanted to hear, and pulled the house copy, which also happened to be the first copy ever printed, off the shelf with her other, better-selling stories.

She opened the cover and began reading. "Once upon a time..."

I laid my head in her lap and listened to her read to me for what could have been hours, letting myself fall deep into the story. The two characters pulled me in, dragging me through the pages into their story, and time didn't matter. Nothing mattered other than the adventures of two fictitious people.

A knock on the door pulled me from the book, my mother as well. She sighed, slipping a bookmark between the pages. "I'll be right back." She stood up, leaving me sprawled out on the couch in a less than appealing position.

I rolled onto the floor, jumping to my feet to follow. I peeked around the corner to see who she was talking to. A man, about her age, maybe a bit younger, stood outside, talking to my mother in hushed but urgent tones.

He was dazzling. I couldn't make out his face as the memories grew fuzzy, but he was definitely eye-catching. He almost seemed to glow, as if he was some celestial being from one of my mother's stories. 

He glanced at me, suddenly aware of my presence. There was no point in hiding at this point, so I stepped forward, standing next to my mother. I looked at the stranger, not scared or wary of him in the slightest, as I usually would be around strangers. 

My mom looked over and saw me standing next to me. "(Y/N), I told you I'd be right back, why didn't you wait?"

The man waved it off. "Don't worry about it." He bent down to my level and gave a bright smile. "Hey, kiddo. You must be the birthday girl."

I said nothing, but nodded and smiled back.

"Happy Birthday, (Y/N)." He pulled a (f/f) sucker out of seemingly nowhere, baffling and delighting my young mind, and offered it to me. I knew taking candy from strangers was a bad idea, but my mom seemed to trust him enough to not slam the door in his face, so I took it from him.

"Sweetie, your friends will be here soon, why don't you go get dressed?" My mom urged.

I took the hint that she wanted me to leave, so I waved at the man and stepped around the corner, still in earshot because I wanted to hear their conversation.

"She looks exactly like you, you know." The man remarked. "You even gave her the same name as you?"

"I know, I lucked out at that, and it was Matt's idea to name her after me. He said she was following in my footsteps."

I heard the man huff in annoyance.

"Oh, shut up. I know you don't like him, but you don't have to be an ass about it."

"I just think you could do better." His voice softened, and I could barely hear the next part. "I miss you."

"I told you before, I'm happy here." She audibly sighed. "Are you sure this is going to work? She'll be safe?"

"Hey, stay positive. She'll be fine, just follow my instructions to a T. You remember everything, right?"

"Word for word."

"Good." There was a pause in the conversation. "You probably want me gone before he realizes I'm here."

"I'm sorry, it's just-"

"I know. You love him, you love your life here, you're over me. I get it."

"Yeah." She paused. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Only if something goes wrong, so hopefully not. But I'll show up if she ever needs my help. I can promise you that."

"I guess this is goodbye, then."

"I guess so. It was nice knowing you. I don't regret a second of it. Goodbye, (Y/N)."

There was another short pause, and I could practically feel her smile. "Goodbye-"

My memory glazed over his name, leaving the man's identity a mystery to me.

I heard my mother close the front door, then footsteps. I scrambled up the stairs to my room, hoping to not get caught eavesdropping on what was probably supposed to be a private conversation. I wondered what, or rather, who they were talking about. I closed my door, thoughts racing through my head at the speed of sound.

I pulled the white dress I'd hung up the previous night off the hanger on the doorknob to the closet. I'd picked it with my mother specially for my tenth birthday, and this was the first time I wore it. It was tighter above the waist but flowed out in the just below the knee length skirt. There weren't sleeves, just thin straps connected to the semi-sweetheart lacy neckline.

I twirled as I admired myself in the mirror, the skirt flowing out around me. For a dress, it was super comfortable. I left my feet bare as I padded back down the stairs, finding my mom once again sitting on the couch, holding the book.

I sat down next to her, and she turned and smiled at me.

"Hey, sweetie. That dress looks fantastic on you."

"Thanks, mom. Are any of my friends here yet?" The doorbell suddenly rang, answering my question. "I'll get it."

I got up and once again made my way to the door. I opened it, revealing a few of my friends who had carpooled together. We proceeded with the customary squealing and hugging that goes with every young girl's birthday party, and I let them inside. Presents were set aside, and the girls were led to the living room, where we talked until, finally, everyone else arrived.

Games were played, my friends and I were annoyed by my brothers, pizza was ordered, and it was a normal birthday. I liked that. Normal.

God, how I missed that.

Eventually, someone started chanting cake, and it turned into a full-blown riot until my mom brought out the homemade cake. It was separated into equal parts white, chocolate, marble, and red velvet, each section with its own kind of frosting. Ten candles were stuck into it in the shape of the number ten, and the words 'Happy Birthday (Y/N)!' were expertly iced onto the top. Everyone, my father and brothers included, singing Happy Birthday to me, off-key, as everyone always did at birthday parties, especially my brothers. Cries of 'make a wish' came from everyone there.

I closed my eyes, pretending to make a wish because I really didn't have one. Everything in my life was perfect, what would I ever want to change?

Emphasis on was.

I blew out the candles, and everyone cheered as the room went dark. My mom flipped the lights back on, which had been turned off once the candles were lit. I carefully plucked the small candles from the cake, licking the frosting off the bottom before setting them aside so it could be cut.

Since I got first pick, I took the corner piece of (f/f), mostly for the extra frosting. Everyone else got their pieces after me, and by the time everyone had their first piece, all parts of the cake had been nibbled at. I stopped at two pieces, some others having as many as five.

Next was presents. Everyone wanted me to open their present first, and I ended up just choosing them at random. They consisted of toys, clothes, a few books and movies, nothing unusual. The last one on the table was a small box wrapped neatly in a cotton candy pink bow. I unwrapped it carefully, aggravating my brother Lucas with how slow I was being.

"Just open it already!" He whined. I stuck my tongue out at him.

I carefully peeled off the wrapping paper, revealing a jewelry box with a card taped to the top. My name was written on the front in a fancy handwriting. I opened the card to see cheesy birthday wishes, signed by my mom. I gave her a smile as I opened the box to reveal a necklace.

It was shaped like a crystal and seemed to almost glow. It sparkled every color imaginable in the light, and my first initial was engraved into it. It was simple, but one of the most beautiful things I'd ever laid eyes on. I was entranced by it, turning it to see the rainbow effect as the light filtered through the crystal onto the table.

I broke from my trance, clipping the cord around my neck. It fell to a comfortable spot just under my collarbone. I gave my mom my brightest smile of the day. "Thanks, Mom! I love it!"

She opened her mouth to reply, probably to say 'you're welcome,' but instead, a gravelly voice came from her mouth, calling my name.

"(Y/N)!"

I was pulled from the memory, my non-dominant hand clutching at my chest, right where that necklace would sit, if I'd had it. It was a habit I'd developed during life, clutching the crystal whenever I was stressed, nervous or anxious, which was most times. Eventually, all the pulling had worn out the cord, and it snapped. I still kept the crystal, just in my pocket instead.

I found myself laying in the grass, staring intently at the sky, Castiel standing over me with a worried look on his face.

"Sorry, I was just reminiscing better days," I said, pushing myself to a sitting, then standing position. "What's up?"

Castiel gripped my wrist, much more tightly than necessary, and yanked me to the edge. There was urgency in his step, and I couldn't imagine what could possibly have gotten him so worked up. 

"Jesus, Cas! What?" I exclaimed in annoyance. He said nothing but pointed down at, I assumed, Dean and Sam. I rolled my eyes at his refusal to simply tell me what was up, or whatever had him so freaked, but I looked reluctantly down to see the boys. My eyes widened at the picture.

Sam was dead.

Dean sat next to a bed with a very pale, unmoving Sam Winchester. I could sense that his heart wasn't beating, nor was he breathing. It was an eerie quiet and stillness. Sam Winchester had bitten the dust.

"Castiel, what the hell happened?" I demanded, whirling to face the emotionless angel.

"While you were lying in the grass being about as useful of a watchdog as a rock, Sam Winchester was kidnapped and stabbed in the back."

"Oh, so it's my fault?" I asked, surprised that Castiel would speak to me like that. We were friends, best friends, even. We'd grown close, close in a way that makes you believe you can trust a person.

"If you had just been watching-" There was an accusatory tone to his voice, so I cut him off.

"If they're so important, why don't you get somebody more responsible to look after them?" I asked, offended.

"There is no one else. If there was, perhaps this may have not happened."

"So you're only here because I'm your only choice." It wasn't a question. 

"That's not what I said."

"That's what you were implying. Seriously, why am I doing this? If it's so important, why don't you watch them yourself?" There was a bite to my voice. "Why don't you just drop down to Earth and become besties with them? Maybe then they'd die less." I turned away from him and sat down, sulking as I watched Dean grieve his dead brother.

"You know we can't interfere."

"Then what's the point of keeping an eye on them?" I kept my eyes on Dean, as he left the shack and made his way to a crossroad. "What's the point of knowing that Dean's currently selling his soul if no one is going to do anything about it?"

"Dean's doing what?" He asked, alarmed. He immediately sunk down next to me, intensely watching the world below. "This is bad."

"And now you're going to take off, tell your superiors, and then do absolutely nothing about it."

I barely finished my sentence before he was gone, no trace of him left. I let out an annoyed sigh and brought my attention back to Dean, who happened to still be haggling years with the demon.

"Hello?" I heard from behind me. I turned and saw a 6'4" giant standing in my Heaven. I immediately recognized him as Sam Winchester, with his long hair and love of plaid.

"Sam Winchester. Welcome to Heaven." I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

"Yeah, I've... kinda been here a while." He said, looking around. "Who are you?"

"My name's (Y/N), nice talking to you for once."

"For once? What do you mean 'for once?'" He asked, making his way over to me.

I gestured to the cliff. "Have a seat."

He cautiously sat next to me, following my line of sight downwards to Earth. "Woah."

I shrugged. "It loses its charm after a while. This is where I stalk you and Dean from. As you can see, he's currently bartering his soul away for your life. I'll give it ten minutes until you go back."

I spared him a glance and saw his confused face. It was a lot to take in, I would admit. 

"What are you?" He finally asked.

"I'm just a dead person, nothing special."

"That other guy said something about there only being you though?"

"The only special thing about me is the location of my Heaven. We're right on the edge, giving me a direct view down into the land of the living." I informed him. "It has nothing to do with me."

He suddenly flickered.

"Looks like you're going home. Live long and prosper." I gave him a two-finger wave and he was gone, faded away before my very eyes, leaving me completely alone.

I felt Teddy nuzzle my left hand.

Well, not completely alone.


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel hadn't visited for a while. I wasn't sure how long it was, but it felt like it could have been an eternity. For all I knew, or even cared, the Winchesters could have gotten married, settled down, and grown old with their significant others by then. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly paying attention. Why bother, anyway? Nobody ever stopped by to ask what was happening on Earth, Winchester related or not, and I didn't really care to watch them drive cross-country attempting the impossible.

I wasn't sure how I knew it was impossible... I just did. There would be no getting out of this deal, no escaping the hellhounds that would come for Dean when his year was up, unless someone--an angel kind of someone--stepped in.

But what were the odds of that happening? As far as I knew, angels hadn't done jack shit since biblical times, and they never seemed that interested in keeping the boys alive before, so why now? Why ever?

"(Y/N)." A gravelly voice pulled me from my thoughts, and suddenly I was back in Heaven, staring at the clouds rolling across the endless sky like they always did. I didn't answer the familiar voice, instead just continuing to cloud-watch. There were footsteps, then a pair of indescribably blue eyes gazing into mine. Concern was etched into his features. "You've been like this for weeks, are you alright?"

I rolled over onto my side to avoid his intense stare. The grass lightly swayed in the nonexistent breeze. I picked a few strands, trying to keep his presence out of mind, but to no avail. Footsteps sounded in the otherwise silent space, and a pair of brown dress shoes with black rubber were present only inches from my face. "What's wrong?" I ignored the worry in his voice and rolled onto my other side. "You can only ignore me for so long, though I don't understand why you are."

Annoyed, I rolled back onto my back to find the dark-haired angel looking down at me. A lock of (h/c) hair fell over my face, and I blew it away in frustration, clearing my field of vision. His troubled look almost seemed genuine. "You don't have to pretend to care, Castiel." I sighed dejectedly. "Really, I know you're only here because I'm useful, and that I, as a person, don't really matter and-"

"I never said anything like that." He cut me off as I felt the beginnings of tears form at the corners of my eyes. 

"You didn't need to say it. I know I'm right."

"No, you aren't." I wiped the wetness from my eyes as he sat down next to me, still leaning over me, the counterfeit sun shining behind him at just the right angle. There was no other way to describe it... he looked angelic. "I don't quite know what it is, but there is something... between us. I'm not here only for what you can offer for the good of Heaven and angelkind; I'm here for you as well."

I turned my eyes directly to his and saw the almost human emotions present in them. There was a certain softness in my voice when I spoke. "You really mean that?"

"I am not capable of lying."

I couldn't help the smile that broke out across my face as I leaned up and wrapped my arms around his neck. He stiffened at first but hesitantly hugged back. "Thanks, Cas. I needed that," I said my voice muffled by his coat.

To anyone else, it might have seemed like an awkwardly long time to hug someone, but I couldn't have cared less. In his embrace, there was a sense of security I hadn't felt since my own mother, and I wanted to drink in the feeling while I could. Cas didn't complain, only held me for what could have been an eternity, and I wouldn't have cared.

"Are hugs supposed to last this long?" Castiel interrupted the comfortable silence.

"Not usually, but does it matter?" I tucked my head farther into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his khaki trenchcoat.

"I just wanted to make sure I wasn't making you... uncomfortable."

I held him tighter. "I'm sorry, Cas."

"For what? There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

I huffed before starting a list that could have gone on far too long. "For making stupid assumptions, for yelling, for being clingy. Everything."

"You're forgiven." It was muffled, but I heard it. I heard it loud and clear.

I smiled and gently pulled away from the tight embrace. "How long has it been since... you know."

"About a month and a half."

My eyes widened and I let out a whistle. "I spent a month and a half cloud watching? Seriously?" I let out a self-conscious chuckle. "Didn't think I could hold a stupid grudge that long."

He turned his head to look up at the clouds. "Why do you watch them? They don't seem to do anything interesting."

"I usually look for shapes." I scooted closer to him, pressing my knee against his, and pointed up at a cloud. "Like that one, it looks like Teddy, don't you think?"

He tilted his head in confusion. "Which one?"

I leaned my head on his shoulder and grabbed his hand, pointing at the guinea pig shaped cloud with his own index finger. "That one, right there."

I didn't need to look at his face to know that he had that expression on his face, the one where he would squint and tilt his head in confusion. "It just looks like a cloud."

"It looks like Teddy."

"It really doesn't."

"Okay, look at Teddy," he looked over at where she was snuffling in the grass, "now look at the cloud. It looks just like her."'

"I don't see it."

"Use your imagination." I quickly picked out another cloud and pointed to it. "Your turn. What does that one look like? And don't say cloud."

He thought for a moment. "Cotton candy?"

I sighed. It was a start.

~

It had a been a few weeks, maybe months,--time is weird in Heaven-- since I made up with Cas, and he showed up regularly again. It was nice, knowing for certain that he wasn't just my friend for the benefits. And by benefits, I meant my location, not anything else.

The Winchesters, on the other hand, weren't doing nearly as well as me. They'd figured out that a powerful demon known as Lilith held the contract for Dean's soul, which didn't help very much, but for them, it was a start. I knew though. I knew there was no getting out of this. I couldn't explain how, and Cas didn't exactly believe me, but I could feel it. 

"You can't be sure."

"But I am. Dean's gonna die, and then he's going to Hell, and if the angels don't do something, he'll be stuck there for the rest of eternity." I looked back down to Earth just in time to see Dean get shot in the chest by some civilian. "Maybe that day's today, who knows? He did just manage to get shot, in case you were wondering."

He immediately looked up from the guinea pig sitting in his lap. "What?" He stood up and rushed over to where I was lying on my stomach, keeping an on the boys over the edge.

"The guy who runs this tourist trap just shot him for trespassing." I watched as Sam held his brother while he bled out, ultimately dying. "Guess that's the end of Dean Winchester."

I watched as Sam held his dying brother, and Cas rushed over to assess the situation. There was suddenly a ringing in my ears and a sharp pain struck just behind my eyes. I squeezed them shut against the sudden discomfort, massaging my temples. But it disappeared just as suddenly as it had hit. Confused, I looked back over the edge, and to my surprise, the day had reset itself. Dean was alive, lacing up his boots as 'Heat Of The Moment' blared from the radio next to Sam's bed, the occupant of which seemed just as confused as me.

"Or... not?" I scrunched my brows together as I tried to put the pieces into place. One minute, Dean was dying, Sam was man-crying, and it was the middle of the night, the next they're both fine and it's the morning of the same day. "What the hell just happened?"

Castiel, who was now mimicking my posture, looked just as confused as I felt. "I'm not sure." 

"Do you know of any creatures that can mess with time? Reality?" I asked, hoping it would be something minor that they could take care of. I wasn't sure I could watch the same day happen over and over without going nuts again.

"Pagan gods, possibly. Tricksters." He paused for a moment before hesitantly continuing. "Angels, to a degree."

I sighed. "Gotta love Pagan gods." He turned and looked at me, confused. "Sarcasm," I clarified. He nodded and looked back down to keep an eye on the boys. "Do you think they can handle it?"

"Hopefully." 

"That's vague as hell. Are you gonna tell your superiors?" I turned my head away from Earth to look at him.

"I will inform them if the situation gets out of hand."

"So you'll stick around with me for a while? Cool." I nodded nonchalantly. "Stalking is always more fun when you're with a friend."

He gave me a confused look. "Sarcasm?"

A bright smile formed on my face. "Good job, you're learning." 

He looked back down, and out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a proud smile on his face. I couldn't help but smile at how adorable he was when he smiled. He really did have a contagious smile, one that could light up a room, if he so desired.

I pulled my attention away from the man sitting next to me and directed it toward the Winchester brothers, when suddenly a thought popped into my head.

"Hey, Cas?" I hesitantly asked, hoping he wasn't too focused on the boys.

"What is it?" He replied after a moment of silence, turning his gaze to my own.

"When I first got here, and you told me I was supposed to watch these two, you introduced them as 'the Winchester brothers, two of them at least.' What did you mean? Are there more?"

"John Winchester had three sons. With his wife Mary, he had Dean and Sam. With Kate Milligan, he had a third, illegitimate son, named Adam."

I scrunched my eyebrows together in intense thought. "Wait, when the hell did he cheat on his wife?"

"He didn't. Kate Milligan conceived Adam not long after Mary Winchester's death."

My eyes instinctively widened in surprise. "How long did he wait?"

"A few months at most."

I blinked in shock. "You sure he actually loved her?"

"Positive. We made sure of it."

"Wait, what? How," I paused, trying to phrase my words correctly. "How do you... make sure... two people are in love?"

"A cherubim can make two people fall in love."

"A what now?" It should have gotten clearer the more he explained, but I was only getting more confused with every word he said.

"They're commonly known as cupids. By simply touching two people, they can cause them to fall in love." He explained it better this time.

"Don't cupids use bows with stupid-looking heart-shaped arrows?" I hoped this would be my last question regarding the fat, naked babies painted on so many church ceilings.

"They haven't used those in a very long time, but yes they have bows. They aren't traditional bows like humans used in battle many years ago. They're more like tattoos on the wrist that only appear when they show them."

"That makes sense. I suppose carrying around bows in today's day and age would be a bit conspicuous, wouldn't it?" I turned my attention back to the Winchesters as Cas hummed in agreement, just in time to see Dean get axed to death by his brother. Blood sprayed everywhere, especially all over Sam, as I felt the same pain behind my eyes as the day reset itself. 

I turned away from the edge, instead favoring the guinea pig just next to me. Teddy nibbled on the grass as I gently scratched the top of her head. I glanced over at the angel sitting next to me. He had turned his steely gaze back to the Winchesters, his eyebrows drawn in concentration. A smile tugged at my lips as I studied his expression. He suddenly looked over at me.

"Why are you looking at me?"

I tried to make my expression as neutral as possible. "No reason, just enjoying the view."

Why did I just say that? What the hell is wrong with me?

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion but didn't say anything as he turned back toward Earth.

That was a complete disaster.

I turned back to my fluffy friend, praying I wouldn't initiate another awkward moment such as the one previous.

"What view?" Cas suddenly asked, confusion evident in his tone.

Shit.

"Uh, don't worry about it. It's not important." I said as quickly as possible, attempting to end this moment. 

He complied with my wishes, not saying anything else, but I could tell by his expression that he was still wondering over what I had said. I could only hope he never met anyone that would explain it.

I may have liked Cas a bit more than I should, but he didn't need to know that. Nobody needed to know that. That was why I was alone, for the most part, in Heaven, and didn't have any older brothers around obsessing over a possible crush that I might have had.

Not that I had a crush on Cas, it wasn't quite that. I genuinely couldn't think of the right word to use.

Words.

My mother probably would've had a word for whatever was happening between myself and the angel. She had been a great author in her prime, and probably still was now. I, unfortunately, hadn't inherited that from her, among all of her features.

"Are you positive she's my daughter?"

No. Not this memory, please.

"Of course she is! Are you accusing me of cheating, Matthias?" My mother's voice broke.

"Maybe I am, (Y/N). Just look at her! She doesn't look anything like the rest of us, except you.

My mother's eyes shone with tears. "Matthias, I would never..."

"We've been married for almost twenty years, you still think I can't tell when you're lying?" His voice was dangerously low, almost a growl.

I'd never been very close to my father, but I'd never known exactly why, until that night that I heard voices downstairs and quietly eavesdropped. I was twelve.

"Who was it?"

"Matthias-"

"Who was it?!" His voice rose, almost to a shout. "That college boyfriend that never really got over you?"

"Please, just listen-" My mother was cut off again by the enraged man I called father.

"Come to think of it, you didn't come home that night when he took you out to get drinks." He stated, an accusatory tone in his voice.

"I lost my phone, and we were both too drunk to drive that night. You know that."

"At this point, I'm not sure I know anything when it comes to you."

Tears slid down my mother's face as she tried to argue her case, but no words came out. Not an ounce of sympathy showed on his face, instead only anger and betrayal.

"I'm sorry, Matthias." My mother finally said, her voice trembling.

"So you admit it." There was no emotion evident on his face anymore. "To think I thought you were different." An emotionless laugh made its way past his lips. "You cheated on me with an old college fling."

My mother sniffed. "He wasn't just a fling. He was so much more than that." Her eyes hardened as she looked her husband in the eye. "You don't know anything about him."

"Yeah, I don't know much about him." He stepped closer to her. "But I do know that if you're going to admit to cheating, you shouldn't wait thirteen years to tell your husband." 

With that said, he stormed up the stairs, right past where I was. He glared as he passed me. I got the feeling that he would've told me off, but it was late. He didn't want to wake up his children.

I looked up the stairs, listening to his quiet but angry steps through the hall. A door closed, but I could tell it wasn't their shared bedroom. It was the guest.

I turned my attention back to my mother, who had collapsed onto the floor, a sobbing mess. I gingerly stepped toward her. "Mom?"

She immediately looked up at me, startled, and forced the tears to stop, putting on a strong face for me. "(Y/N), what are you doing up?"

"I heard voices." I started awkwardly, building up the courage to ask my next question.

"What is it, baby?"

"Did you... cheat on dad?"

My mother, who I had looked up to for my entire life, looked down, an ashamed look on her face. "I'm sorry, baby. I never meant to, but..." She choked back a small sob. "It resulted in you, so I could never regret it."

I let out a sad sigh. "It's okay, mom." I started forward, wrapping my arms around her so I could be her shoulder to cry on. "Everything will be okay."

"(Y/N)?" The familiar deep voice of my angel pulled me from the memory. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm..." I trailed off, wiping at the tear tracks left on my face. "I'm fine, just remembered something."

"What was it?"

"It was the night I found out my father wasn't my father." I looked down at the grass and picked at it. "My mom admitted to cheating on him with some old college boyfriend, resulting in me." I sighed. "He never looked at me the same after that. He told any time he had the chance that I was nothing but a reminder of how he would never be able to compete with the first person my mom had ever loved."

Almost scarily human emotions graced his face. "I want you to know that you're so much more than that."

I looked at him through eyes blurred with tears. "Thanks, Cas." I leaned my head against his firm shoulder. "You're always there right when I need you."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "I'll always come when you need me."

Love? Was that the word?


	7. Chapter 7

Dean's year was almost up.

If they didn't figure out how to break the contract, without killing Sam, of course, Dean would die within a few hours, maximum.

I sat right at the edge of the cliff, Castiel beside me, anxiously awaiting the turnout of their latest, and probably last plan. 

Demons were everywhere, surrounding the house of the poor girl being possessed by Lilith. The mailman, gardener, neighbors, they surrounded her.

It was a deathtrap. Going in there, it would be suicide.

"They won't all make it out of this alive, you know that, right?" I pointed out to the angel sitting next to me. "Lilith is too powerful for them to fight, someone will end up dead. Probably Dean."

"You might be right."

"If someone doesn't go help them..." I trailed off, but the ending of my sentence was obvious enough.

"We can't interfere." He stressed. "It would upset the balance."

"It looks like you're going to have to." I watched as the fight played out, Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Ruby all on the losing side. 

It all went by so fast, demons burning in holy water, Lilith hijacking Ruby, the claws and fangs of the hellhound ripping through Dean's flesh, and then the kind of silence that only comes from a dead man. Sam, horrified by his brother's mutilated corpse, screamed, and suddenly Lilith was gone.

And that was it.

"I need to leave." Cas suddenly stood up.

"Wait, where are you going?" I stood up with him, trying to catch his attention before he flew off, leaving me in the dust.

"Hell. We need to interfere." And he was gone, leaving me alone in near silence, only the distant sound of the sobs for a lost brother keeping me company.

He was going to interfere? Why now?

I slowly sunk back into the grass, more confused than ever, and watched as Sam and Bobby buried Dean, rather than give him the customary hunter's funeral. As Sam had said, Dean would need a body when he came back.

In the following months, Cas didn't visit, so I was alone in watching Sam deal with Dean's death. I wouldn't call it a very healthy way to grieve but to each their own. If he wanted to screw demons and drink their blood, good for him. No skin off my back, especially since the only other living - or rather dead - being around was Teddy, but she was a guinea pig. And guinea pigs don't care about your self-control issues.

The days crawled by. Everyone knows how "time flies when you're having fun," but it slows to a near stop when you wait for something or someone.

Finally, after four months had passed, Castiel finally showed up again. The second he stepped foot in the grass, I whirled around and launched myself into his arms. He stumbled slightly but held tight.

"Dammit, Cas. You could've called, or visited, or just let me know you're alive," I mumbled into the fabric covering his shoulder.

"My apologies. I was busy."

"Where were you?" I pulled slightly away so I could look him in the eyes as I asked my questions. "What was so important that you couldn't talk to me for four months?"

"Just look." He gently pulled me over to the cliff, sitting me down at the edge. My view was focused on Dean's grave. All the trees in the surrounding area had died and fallen over, leaving an eerie atmosphere around the grave.

"What..." I started, words failing. 

A movement in the dirt caught my eye, and I leaned closer to get a better look. The ground seemed to almost pulse, in a way. A hand suddenly broke the surface, making me jump slightly. The hand was followed by an arm, then shoulder, then the head of Dean Winchester as he pulled himself, covered in dirt, from the ground.

"He's alive," I said, shock evident in my voice. I looked over at Cas, who was still intently observing Dean's actions. "What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter what I did, I didn't do it in time." Disappointment shrouded his features.

"I asked you an open-ended question, Cas. That means you have to answer and explain. You've done neither of those." I gave him a pointed look.

"My job was to get Dean out of Hell before he broke the first seal. I failed."

"Lovely. What the hell do you mean 'seal?'" I asked.

"There are over six hundred seals in the world. If sixty-six of them are broken, Lucifer will be set free from his cage."

"That's bad," I said, pointing out the obvious.

"Yes, it is. The first seal to start the chain reaction was a righteous man agreeing to torture souls in Hell, to save himself from suffering."

"And Dean did that?" 

"He did, breaking the first seal before we could stop him. Now, our only hope is that the Winchesters can clean up this mess they started."

"So, let me get this straight. They basically started the apocalypse?" 

"Yes, they did." My jaw fell open in shock. There was no way that two random hunters could just start the apocalypse.

"You're gonna fix this, right?"

He let out a breath. "We're going to try."

"That's comforting."

"Yes, it is."

My eyes widened at his last statement. I turned toward him in shock. "Did you just..." I trailed off, firmly placing my hands on his shoulders, which seemed to confuse him. "Did you just use sarcasm?" My voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"...Yes?" It was hardly a statement, more of a question, but I would take it.

I pulled him closer as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "They grow up so fast," I said, my voice cracking near the end. 

"Are you alright?" He asked, hesitantly returning the awkward hug.

"My Castiel is using sarcasm," I said, not really to him, "It really is the end of the world."

"If this is how you will react, perhaps it's best I don't," He mumbled into my hair.

I silently nodded. "Don't scare me like that."

He gave me an awkward pat on the back before disentangling himself from me.

While I was still dumbfounded on the fact that Cas had picked up sarcasm, said angel turned his attention back to Dean, who had stumbled across an abandoned rest stop. Or that was what it looked like, at least. 

Whenever I managed to zone back in, I saw Cas looking at me expectantly. I could only assume he had asked a question while I was stuck on sarcasm. SARCASM. Cas had picked up SARCASM. From ME.

"(Y/N)?" I snapped out of my trance, again.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, finally, but not actually, over the fact that he had used sarcasm. Sarcasm. Seriou-

"What do you think we should do?"

I blinked a few times, unsure if I had heard him correctly. "You," I gestured to him, "Want help from me?" I asked, disbelief evident in my tone.

"Yes." My heart skipped a beat when he said that. I, the much less important one when it came to making decisions, was being asked what we should do.

"You are just full of surprises today, aren't you?" I mumbled, looking down to assess the situation. Dean was still in the same place, picking up some candy bars and water. Not like they would ever go bad. 

"Dean will most likely try to find Sam, but considering he has no idea where he is, he'll probably stop by Sioux Falls first, ask Bobby what he knows. He doesn't have much right now, just the flannel on his back, so it's not like he can track Sam on his own." I hummed in concentration. "After he and Sam reconnect, they'll probably try to figure out how the hell Dean got back from Hell, and they have connections, they can probably figure out a way to summon the person that broke him out - that's you - and they'll probably try getting some answers."

"Valid assumption."

I shrugged. "They're pretty predictable after this long. But the thing is, you're an angel."

"I don't see the problem."

"Well," I started, not quite sure how to phrase this, "They've never seen an angel, and while we know Sam is the religious type, Dean is most definitely not. He won't believe jack shit unless you prove it to him. He may have seen the impossible more than enough times to make any regular person believe, but he is stubborn as a mule, and he's never seen an angel before. He doesn't believe in you. He doesn't believe you exist."

He took a moment to let that sink in. "So, how do I approach this?"

"Well, you know what they say." I shrugged. "Communication is key. If you ease him into it, he might not find it so unbelievable."

"Alright." He left with the familiar sound of wings.

"Wait, you're doing this now?" I asked no one in particular, slightly panicked.

I leaned over the edge to see Dean running from the abandoned building, his ears covered to protect against the earsplitting whine that I could only assume was the true voice of Castiel. He looked bewildered. The glass of the windows was broken, and various things were flung from the shelves.

"That didn't work." The sudden voice beside me made me jump.

"Jesus Christ, Cas! Don't do that!" I exclaimed as I gathered my wits. 

"My apologies."

"It's fine, just quit scaring the shit out of me like that."

"Talking didn't work."

"I noticed."

"What now?"

I sighed my frustrations away. "You didn't really go about it the right way. A better time, a better place might help. You might've scared him." Though he'd never admit it. "I'd say just try again, but-"

Whoosh

"Goddammit, let me finish my sentence," I said to, again, no one. Because Cas had left. Again. "I get that this is of utmost importance, but maybe listening to the instructions could help." I ran a hand over my forehead, looking down to observe whatever Dean was doing because I honestly didn't want to know how Sam was dealing.

He was standing in Bobby's house, having taken a white car that he probably hot-wired. His jacket was off and his sleeve rolled up to show a handprint burned into the flesh of his left shoulder. I could only assume that Cas had left it when he pulled Dean up.

Bobby seemed shocked as he stood up to get a closer look. I couldn't hear their conversation well, but from the bits and pieces I heard, they were guessing it was a demon, probably because of a deal made by Sam. I wouldn't put it past the kid, or any of the Winchesters, past or present. They were such a family-oriented bunch, the Winchesters. Making deals with demons because being alone is terrifying.

Dean picked up a phone, dialing a number for what I guessed was a phone company, based on the one side of the conversation that I could hear. He asked for them to turn on the GPS, which I assumed they did. Dean hung up, then opened a laptop to what I guessed was a website for tracking GPS. Lots of guessing today.

He commented on the absurd amount of empty bottles before the laptop beeped, giving them a reading on Sam's location. We all know what that means. Driving!

Yaaaaay...

I groaned loudly at the prospect of so many hours sitting in a crappy car listening to music. Not that I had anything wrong with Dean's taste in music, it was actually pretty good, but after several accumulative weeks worth of driving and nothing else, it got boring.

I laid back in the grass, picking at it as the two men silently drive all the way to wherever Sam was. My memories of road trips as a kid began to take over, which I didn't fight, there was no point.

"Cows!"

"Lucas, if you point out any more cows-"

"More cows!"

"I swear to God, Lucas-

"Noah..." A warning came from my mother.

"Oh, shut up, mom."

"Do not make me turn this car around, young man!"

"Mom, you missed the exit."

My mother, who was driving, huffed in frustration. Not that I blamed her, being stuck in a full eight-person van could be a headache, especially when the passengers included my brothers.

"It's alright, we'll take the next exit and work our way from there," My dad assured my mom.

"Are we there yet?" Ethan, the youngest, whined at everyone in the car. Especially me, considering I was stuck in the way back between him and Logan.

"No, we have another three hours, at least," Logan stated, only the slightest hint of annoyance evident in his tone.

I inwardly groaned. Just living in the same house as these five was a chore, being stuck in the same five by ten-foot rectangle was probably detrimental to my health. Especially considering I had already been stuck in the van with them for the past ten hours.

Ugh, why did grandma have to live so far away?!

Right, because mom couldn't stand being near her for more than three days at a time.

I looked down at the small carry-on bag in my lap. Was my coloring book worth the inevitable headache? I sighed. No, no it was not.

"Dad, can you turn on some music?" I practically yelled over Lucas' constant exclamation of 'cows!'

He reluctantly turned it on, probably knowing that there would be a fight about what music to play. I really didn't care what was on, as long as it wasn't the inescapable radio static that haunted the highway.

The inevitable fight broke out, finally ending fifteen minutes later after my dad threatened to put on a five-hour loop of "Cotton-Eye Joe" if we didn't agree on something in the next five minutes. Mom's eighties playlist was decided on, so bands like Asia and Journey were our muses for the next three to four hours.

We finally passed a sign that said: "Welcome to Pontiac!" There were cheers all throughout the car, and everyone knew that we were only about another hour away. Our grandma lived in the countryside, but Pontiac was the closest city to her, so we all just agreed she lived there. We passed through the city onto another country road, eventually turning onto the gravel drive that led straight to the farmhouse where our grandma lived on her own. She would have lived with grandpa, but he'd died a long time ago, back when mom was just graduating college.

The second the car was stopped and the doors unlocked, everyone tumbled out to say hi to grandma and the dog. There were hugs all around, even from Noah. I stopped to pet the aussie dog that had run up to me, tail wagging. He wore a red bandana around his neck in place of a collar and had light fur with darker specs splattered on his coat.

"Hey, Cooper. Did you miss me, buddy?" I giggled as he licked my face, slobbering all over me.

"Logan, come help with the bags!" I heard my father call from behind the van. Logan swiftly ran to the back end and helped pull all the luggage from the trunk. For a three day long stay, there was quite a bit to take in, but Logan didn't complain.

Eventually, everything was brought in, rooms were assigned, and I was tucked into bed and given a kiss on the forehead by my mother before she went back downstairs to her game of hearts with grandma. I was all tuckered out from the long day of driving, so much so that I drifted away into dreamland within the first five minutes of lying in the decade's old bed.

When my eyes opened again, I was looking up at the clouds. No, there wasn't a hole in the roof at the farmhouse, I was just back in the real world. I sighed at the end of the memory. It had been one of our better trips, though we did end up staying an extra few days because of unsafe travel conditions.

I sat back up, my feet still dangling over the edge, and quietly observed the scene before me. It was nighttime, Sam was just letting an attractive young woman out of the hotel room he was staying at. Dean immediately addressed the elephant in the room, asking something about what it cost Sam. They still seemed to be set on a demon deal for a solution. I didn't blame them. They didn't know angels existed, what else were they supposed to believe?

Sam denied making a deal, which Dean didn't seem to believe. A heated argument ensued, before dying down, like they always did. I didn't think those boys could stay mad at each other for longer than a few hours if they wanted to.

Finally, the real question arose, voiced by Dean. "If he didn't pull me out, then what did?"

"There you go, now you're getting it." My encouragements fell on deaf ears, probably because I was dead and they weren't anywhere near me. "Not everything is a demon, boys. Your world is about to get so much bigger and more complicated."


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh my god, he's not a demon!" I yelled at them in frustration.

Just when they were starting to get on the right track, they assume it's a demon.

"Seriously, it's common sense at this point," I mumbled, mostly to myself. "If demons exist, Lucifer must exist, and he's an angel that fell from grace - how are you not putting this together?! And why would some demon want you to not be there, especially some powerful one that you've probably pissed off because you idiots really have a habit of doing that."

I ran my hands down my face and groaned as they conversed about the sudden rising levels of demon activity, probably because of the boys, because everything happens because of them. Seriously. Some random, earth-shatteringly terrifying thing happens? Oh, it's probably just the Winchesters again. Wonder what they're up to this time. Oh, the apocalypse is happening? Those darn Winchesters. They never stay out of trouble, do they?

I pulled myself out of my annoying train of thought to focus in on the Winchesters, who had agreed to see a psychic about the sudden wave of demon activity. Dean also had his necklace back, which he seemed happy about. He didn't look right without it on.

Bobby said something about the psychic being about four hours down the interstate, and you know what that means.

Driving. More driving. Always driving.

One might think it's fun, getting to stalk two attractive strangers from a hidden place among the clouds, but it's not. Mostly because the only thing they ever seem to do is drive. Just drive. And work on the car. And drive some more. And keep driving. Spend five minutes exorcizing a ghost or demon. Drive. Drive some more. Highways. How could I not be sick of them by now?

So, after the painfully long road trip, which wasn't even one of their longer ones, and a heart to heart in the Impala that I couldn't be bothered to listen to when I just wanted something more entertaining to do, they found themselves in the driveway of the psychic's house. Thank God, the plot was progressing.

Immediately after giving Bobby a bear hug, the dark-haired woman was introduced as Pamela Barnes, the "best damn psychic in the world." She lets the group in without much in the way of conversation and leads them to what I would call a seance room. There was really no other word for it. Pamela explained everything she knew, which wasn't much, and with a bit of expected flirting from Dean, they were ready to start a seance.

Because what could possibly go wrong?

Everything. That is what could wrong in a seance.

Regardless of the danger, the four sat at a small table lit with candles. They all held hands, one of Pamela's on the mark on Dean's shoulder, which Sam seemed shocked about. Pamela began chanting, surprisingly not in gibberish. She simply stated, "I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle." She repeated it several times before breaking off in the middle to address Castiel, who I assumed was replying from wherever he was at the moment. Dean spoke his name in questioning. Pamela replied with, "Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back."

I scrunched my eyebrows together, slightly offended that she had just called my best friend an 'it'. My best friend was a he, dammit!

She switched the chant to, "I invoke, conjure, and command you, show me your face."

The shaking and such that one would expect from a seance grew louder and more forceful. This lady was definitely powerful, I'd give her that. Bobby voiced his objections, but Pamela insisted on continuing, claiming she almost had it. I couldn't help but worry for her. She really didn't know just what she was messing with. She commanded Cas to show her his face with such force that I could only assume he did, by the way the once small flames grew feet in height, and the blinding white light coming from her eyes. She collapsed onto the floor as the various loud noises stopped and the flames died down. She was conscious but bleeding, and when her eyes flew open, only burned sockets remained.

I had to turn away. I wasn't generally extremely squeamish, but that... that was something else. "Cas, what just happened?" I called out to him for the first time since he left last, my voice turning higher at what I'd just seen.

I knew he was there the second I heard his wings flap. "She tried looking at my real face. As you can probably tell, it didn't end well for her."

I was speechless as I stood up and buried my face in his chest, trying to erase the image of Pamela bleeding and in pain, no eyes to speak for.

"I tried to warn her. I told her to turn back."

"So that's just..." I trailed off, my mouth dry. "That's just what happens when a human looks at an angel?"

"Yes, for most of them, anyway. There are a select few who can perceive an angel's true face and voice. As you can tell, Pamela is not one of them."

"Will she be okay?" I asked, concerned for the woman despite only knowing she'd existed for a few hours.

"That depends on how fast help gets there, but she will never see again."

"They probably won't be very happy with you, you know."

"That can be assumed, yes."

"What if they try killing you?"

"I can assure you, they aren't capable of killing an angel."

"Good." I pulled him tighter, not wanting to let go. "'Cause if you die, I will be very angry and alone time will only give me more reason to plot against them."

"I don't believe Heaven would take very kindly to you plotting the deaths of two of the most important people in history."

"Then don't you dare get yourself killed because of those two idiots."

"Alright."

"Promise me."

"I promise. I won't get myself killed because of the Winchesters to the best of my ability."

It wasn't rock solid, but I'd take it. Those Winchesters were trouble, but they had a knack for not letting anyone stay dead forever.

I pulled away. "I should probably go see what they're doing now."

Cas nodded. "I'll try talking to Dean again."

I sat down at the edge again, just as the familiar sound of wings marked Castiel's exit.

Dean was napping on a couch in the motel room - alone. Sam wasn't there, so I could only assume he was out being a drug addict, or something. The TV flickered on to static, and I had the feeling that Cas was making his move for the second time, not that it would end any better than the first time.

The same sort of thing happened as the first time, breaking glass, malfunctioning electronics, the whole nine yards. Dean, of course, woke up. Probably because of the extremely high-pitched screeching sound that I could only assume was Cas. He crumpled to the ground as the ceiling mirror broke, crushing his hands against the sides of his skull, screaming in agony.

I probably should've felt bad, but with how frustrating they had been lately, I was running low on sympathy.

Bobby suddenly burst into the room, shouting Dean's name, only barely heard above the glass-breaking sound. He rushed over to help, and as the sound stopped I heard the familiar sound of wings as Castiel landed next to me.

"English might work better," I offered, "I don't think Dean speaks 'nails-on-a-chalkboard.'"

"It's Enochian."

"That's a beautiful language you speak."

"Thank you."

Not positive if he was serious, or trying his hand at sarcasm again, I gave an unsure nod and looked back to the boys. Castiel sat next to me, close enough to just barely brush against me. Dean had just called Sam, and it was painfully obvious that they were both lying to each other. To me, at least. Then again, I'd had nothing to do but study them for however many months now, maybe even years.

"Why the hell didn't you tell him?" I heard Bobby ask Dean.

"Because he'd just try to stop us."

"From what?"

"From summoning this thing. It's time we faced it head on."

Excuse you, that 'thing' you're referring to happens to be my best friend. Totally not love interest.

Dean pulled out the demon knife after a bit of protest from the older man, convincing him that they had more than a high enough chance of killing whatever they managed to catch.

"Can they actually summon you? There's no way they have a way to summon an angel, they don't even think you exist."

"You can summon anything with the correct spell." He didn't seem worried in the slightest about the possible meeting between him and the Winchesters. He seemed to sense my hesitance, so he turned to me. "Even if they do summon me, they have no way of hurting me."

I bit my lip, still worried for him. "You don't know that," I argued.

"Yes, I do." He slipped a triangular silver blade from his sleeve.

"Ooh, shiny." The light reflected off of the metal, catching my eye. "What is it?"

"This is an angel blade. It's the only type of weapon that can hurt an angel," Cas reassured me.

I looked up at him, still not entirely convinced, but the confident look in his eyes wiped away any doubt left in my mind. "Okay." I gave a small smile. "I trust that you won't get killed down there. Because I trust you." The slightest of smiles graced his features. "Don't get hurt, got it?"

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm more of a threat to them than they are to me."

I wrapped my arms around him for a brief hug. "Go get 'em, tiger."

With the whoosh that I was all too familiar with, he was gone again. I let out a sigh, my worries and doubts creeping back before I looked back down to see what would happen when they were finally face to face with something they'd never seen before. Never even thought might exist.

Dean and Bobby were painting symbols on the walls, floor, ceiling, every surface there was. Every symbol I could have seen in my entire life, as well as many I didn't recognize, covered every inch of the walls. They didn't seem to be quite ready yet, and the familiar angel wasn't there, so I figured I could take a glance at Sam for a bit.

He was in a diner, one he seemed to have been in before, probably when I wasn't paying attention. He spoke to a waitress with burned out eyes. Cas must have taken a detour on his way to the two about to summon him. He didn't seem to be doing anything I needed to keep an eye on, so I turned my attention back to Dean and Bobby, who were just finishing their preparations.

"What do you say we ring the dinner bell?" I heard Dean say, and Bobby walked over to what I assumed they were going to use to summon Castiel. I bit my lip in anticipation as he sprinkled something into the bowl and began chanting in Latin.

The bowl smoked, but nothing else seemed to happen. The pair looked around expectantly for their target.

After probably several minutes of anticipation, Dean relaxed, exasperatedly, if it was possible. He sat down on a nearby table, suddenly bored.

"You sure you did the ritual right?" he asked, and as if on cue, a loud rattling thundered throughout the building. Dean and Bobby immediately armed themselves and positioned themselves at the back of the warehouse.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind."

The doors flew open, and in walked the familiar trenchcoat-clad silhouette of Castiel.

The two humans immediately jumped to attention at the sight of him, arming themselves and taking position at the back of the storehouse. I winced at the loud booming of shotgun shells being fired, but they didn't seem to do anything to Cas. The lights above shattered as he proceeded through the building, showering him in sparks. Dean gripped the demon knife before speaking.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," Cas responded as if it was obvious.

"Yeah, thanks for that." Dean plunged the knife into Castiel's chest, and I couldn't help but gasp. He didn't seem all that bothered by it, though. He simply looked down at where it stayed, hilt deep, and pulled it out, dropping it to the floor.

At this point, I was majorly freaking out, wondering what the hell was Dean's problem? He saved your goddamn life, you asshole!

But nothing slowed down to give me time to process what the fuck was going on, so. Oh well.

Bobby suddenly attacked from behind, but, because my best is a badass, was swung around by his weapon, booped on the head, and passed out.

"We need to talk, Dean. Alone."

Completely ignoring him, Dean ran over to Bobby, checking his pulse.

"Your friend's alive."

"Who are you?" Dean asked, his voice hard.

"Castiel."

"Yeah, I figured that much I mean what are you?"

"Well, he's not a demon, dumbass," I mumbled, annoyed at how much of a dick he was being.

They didn't notice me, not that they should've, and continued their conversation.

"I'm an angel of the Lord."

I was suddenly brought back to the first time I met Cas. He introduced himself as an angel of the Lord. A sad smile crossed my face as I reminisced about how much of a pessimist I was when I first got here. I realized I'd never apologized for that. I would have to remember to do that when he got back.

"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." Lightning flashed, and a shadow of what appeared to be wings showed up just behind him. As abruptly as they appeared, they disappeared, leaving the back wall as it was before.

Rather than being impressed, Dean scoffed. "Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes.

It wasn't obvious, but I could see guilt in his eyes. "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?" Cas nodded. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

"That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."

Special people?

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?"

"This?" he inquired, looking down at his vessel. "This is... a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?"

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."

"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

Castiel frowned in confusion. "I told you."

"Right, and why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

"Good things do happen, Dean."

"Not in my experience."

"What's the matter, you don't think you deserve to be saved?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."

Castiel suddenly disappeared from the picture, reappearing at my side.

"That didn't go as well as I had hoped."

I shook my head. "No. No, it did not."

He let out a dejected sigh. I bumped his shoulder with my own.

"I think Dean's just being stubborn. He'll come around, I'm sure of it."

"He'll have to, eventually. Now that I've made my presence known, I might as well actively play a role in this."

I looked down into my lap as I realized what that meant. "So... you won't be around as often?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

A blanket of silence settled over the area.

I swung my feet, my heels hitting the rocky cliff face on the downswing, but I didn't feel any of the pain that would normally accompany the sudden stop.

"Hey, Cas?" The silence was broken with the beginnings of conversation. "Heaven's not too bad."

"That's not what you said when you first arrived."

"I know." I hunched over, not making eye contact. "I started thinking about when we first met earlier, and... I dunno, I guess I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"I was being an ass, and I'm sorry."

He seemed to think it over. "Apology accepted."

I couldn't help but smile at that.

"I was worried, you know."

"I already-"

"Yeah, I know. Fancy blade is the only thing that can kill you. But Dean had his own fancy knife that's killed everything before, and I was scared you'd get hurt."

"They had no means to hurt me."

"I dunno, with that much determination, you can do just about anything."

"He may have had a motive, but he had no means."

"Yeah, and his motive was being saved. One hell of a 'thank you' he gave. You'd think he'd be happy to be out of Hell, with all its endless suffering and crap. But no. Stab your savior in the chest, that seems like an adequate way to thank him," I ranted, sarcasm dripping from my words like acid.

"I don't believe he'll try that again."

"He'd better not," I grumbled. I risked a glance over at the angel next to me. He was staring off into the distance, perfectly calm as always. There wasn't a scratch on him. He was alive, and he was fine. And at that moment, that was enough for me.

He turned to see me staring. "What?"

"Nothing, just... glad you're still alive."

"Well, I did make you a promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where my prewritten chapters end, so there'll be a wait between this and the next one. I don't have a concrete updating schedule, but I am a high school student, so it might be a while. If you want to know when the next chapter goes up, click the Subscribe button at the top of the page, and you'll get an email when I update. Hope to see you in the next chapter!


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